


Of Scars and Scales (Part 1)

by Rabbitafy



Category: Adventure Time
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-22
Updated: 2014-02-13
Packaged: 2018-01-09 16:44:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1148355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rabbitafy/pseuds/Rabbitafy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Majestic and beautiful, Marshall Lee was more than just a dragon to him. He was a friend, family, and above all else… someone he held very close to his heart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fallen from the Sky

Truth be told, it was nearly impossible to keep him indoors. His parents had tried in vain to have him locked up inside the halls of the palace, but he was constantly sneaking free, disappearing into the forest that surrounded the capitol.

Prince Burton wasn’t a calm boy by any right. At 16, he’d already mastered archery and sword fighting. He hated being confined and sometimes he needed to just let himself enjoy some time alone.

Usually his time away was just spent walking around, a set of throwing knives strapped to his hip (his preferred weapon) for safety. His eyes would focus on the skies, but his hearing would be alert, akin to the world around him.

With a head of strawberry blonde hair and large violet eyes, the boy was a looker by any right, but he wasn’t really interested in the idea of settling down with some young woman and ruling the kingdom. Yes, politics came easily to him, but his skills were more suited on a battle field then locked in some throne room making choices for people whom he’d never met.

The night air was crisp and clear, the wetness of it calming as he breathed in. Around him, he could hear small creatures scurrying up trees and bugs chirping into the night air.

A sudden noise filled the area around him and he stopped dead in mid-step, his eyes jerking to the right. It had sounded like a creature whimpering in pain, throwing itself around in the grass. From the sound of it, it was something big, but he couldn’t help but let curiosity the better of him.

Being as silent as possible, the Prince began to slip through the trees, keeping his entire body alert and one hand on his knives.

As he cleared the last bits of bark that blocked his vision, the teen went still, violet eyes widening at the sight he was looking upon. Before him, no more than twenty feet away, was a full on, completely real… _Dragon_!

Large and dangerous, Dragons were massive creatures that lived in the volcano covered lands of the Fire Kingdom. Many of them were in the hands of the Flame King himself, used as creatures of war to slaughter any enemies that may come across them. It was for that reason that the kingdom was constantly expanding, no others willing to wage a war they would no doubt lose.

Burton had never seen one in person, however from what he understood, they were usually far bigger than this one. This dragon was barely larger than a horse and it was lying on its side, thrashing its head around in pain. In the light of the moon, he could just barely see the smudge of red that ran up the large being’s side. Injured… it was injured!

Not really thinking about it, the teenager sprang forward, holding up his arms. “Shh!” He yelled as soon as the creature saw him and began to try and scoot away, crying out. “Be quiet or they’ll hear you!” These words seemed to calm it down, its body going still and its noises of pain silencing.

Clenching his bottom lip between his teeth, the Prince slowly began to step forward, his arms still up. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he assured gently, watching the way the Dragon’s chest rose and fell rapidly as if it were struggling to breathe. Violet eyes turned, meeting with sky blue ones that were full of fear. Swallowing down his fear – after all, from what he understood this thing could easily bite his head off or roast him – Burton laid his hands on dark scales and inspected the wound.

It ran the length of the creature’s body, from beneath its upper arm to the bottom of its lower leg. It wasn’t too deep, but he couldn’t really be much of a judge, having never seen a dragon before.

Just as he was starting to contemplate just how he could get the poor thing the help it needed, the form slipped out of his hold. Alarmed, the Prince jerked back, eyes widening in surprise as scales gave way to smooth, pale skin. A long tail all but disappeared and large wings folded into smaller ones as dark hair spilled around a round face.

Before him, the form of a small dragon was no more. Now, in its place, a boy no older than six laid in the grass on his side, a wound running down his small form.

Not giving himself any real time to react, Burton lent down, placing a hand on the boy’s forehead. Finding his skin hot to the touch – and unsure if that really meant anything because, really, what did he know about dragons? – he pulled his hand away and shrugged off his jacket, wrapping it around the child.

He knew if anyone in the palace laid eyes on the boy’s wings and made the connection they would seize the child immediately. No doubt they’d lock him away and use him just as the Fire Kingdom did. He would be nothing more than a war slave, there to roast innocent cities and make the King unstoppable.

And so, deciding to never let that happen, the strawberry-blonde Prince scooped the small boy into his arms and headed back to his home, intent on keeping him safe.

* * *

None of the staff had questioned him as he carried the boy inside, sparing small glances at him and remaining silent. They were trained to do so by his father, no matter their opinions. No doubt he could murder a man in front of them and they wouldn’t question it, instead helping him clean up the body.

After asking a woman for some bandages and a cold glass of water, the Prince entered his room and rested the child on the bed, careful of his small wings. He waited to remove the jacket until she had come and gone, leaving the items he’d requested. After her departure, Burton pulled it off and frowned down at the cut.

It looked like a battle wound. He had no doubt this had been done with a sword, the cut too long for a spear and too thin for an axe. But who in their right mind would battle a child, dragon or not?

Deciding not to linger on those thoughts too long, the teenager went about cleaning and wrapping the injury as best he could. It was difficult, the bandages seeming to cover more than half of the child’s form as he wound them around to keep the dressing secure. He knew it would scar and that the little boy would have it for the rest of his life… a reminder of something horrible he’d gone through, no doubt.

After watching the boy sleep for a few moments, the Prince slipped into his private bathroom and dumped the red-stained water, before returning to his room. To his surprise, however, he went still in the doorway, gazing into alarmed blue eyes with disbelief.

The little boy was crouched on the bed, as if ready to pounce. His shoulders were tense, his movement hindered by the bindings. His wings were extended, though Burton doubted they could carry him much of anywhere at that moment, considering how small they were.

“Hey…” The strawberry-blonde soothed, holding up his hands. “I won’t harm you.” An intense gaze remained on him, but there was no reaction. “I healed you, didn’t I? I’m not going to let you get hurt.”

After a few more moments of silence, a sudden thought occurred to the teenager and he let out a slow breath of realization. This kid was a dragon… of course he didn’t understand him.

Chewing on his bottom lip, Burton slowly took a step forward, only to freeze again as the boy tensed even further.

“It’s okay…” He tried again, knowing the other couldn’t understand him. The point was to be soothing, keeping his voice gentle and soft. “I promise, I’m not going to hurt you.”

This time when he moved forward, the boy didn’t tense, watching him with sky blue eyes. Okay, so that was an improvement… Being as relaxed as he could, the Prince moved forward, taking a seat on the bed at the boy’s side and holding out one hand. He pointed toward himself, locking gazes with the child. “Burton.”

Glancing him up and down carefully, the boy slowly relaxed, moving into a more comfortable position. He tilted his head to the side, reaching out to grasp the strawberry blonde’s hand. With quick movements, he began to look over the man’s fingers carefully, as if completely awed by them.

“What?” The older asked, a small smile crossing his lips. “What is it? Have you never seen fingers before or something? What about your own?”

Not offering any response, the child sprang to his legs once more, perching one arm on the teenager’s shoulder and grapping a handful of his strawberry-blonde hair. As Burton gasped in surprise, he leaned in close, peering at it with curious eyes.

With a laugh, the tall boy let the child circle him, admiring everything about him as if it was all new. He must not have been from the Fire Kingdom’s dungeons, or he would have seen things like clothes and hair that color. No, he had no doubt that a boy this small hadn’t gone much farther than his parent’s den… which meant that they’d likely been attacked there and he’d fled.

Frowning at the very thought, the Prince watched as his companion took a seat once more, before pointing one finger at himself. He made a small coo, like a cat might, before pointing toward the Prince and struggling out, “Burrrr… ton?”

“Burton,” Came the agreed response as the older boy smiled, nodding. He pointed toward the boy, before holding his hand to his ear to show that he hadn’t quite heard the name.

Another coo left the child and honestly, the human was at a loss of what to do. There was no way he could mimic that sound and yet it was rude not to try and call the boy by his name. And so, knowing he would botch the entire thing, he attempted to mock the noise, earning a surprised look.

To his delight, a smile crossed the pale boy’s face before he giggled lightly. He shook his head, before pointing toward the Prince. He then repeated the motion toward himself, and held up a hand to his ear.

Lifting his eyebrows, Burton tried to make out what the child meant, before he realized. “You want me to give you a name?” He earned no response, but he had a feeling that his assumption was right. And so, letting his thoughts mull over for a moment, he decided on a name.

Marshall, for the name of the famous Dragon rider in olden tales, and Lee, after his grandfather on his mother’s side (the only family member he could really stand). With a solid nod, he caught the boy’s eyes once more and declared, “Marshall Lee.”

Curiously, the child tilted his head. “Marshhhull… Lee?”

Smiling and resisting a chuckle, the Prince shifted positions, crossing his legs in front of himself. “Marshall Lee,” He stated again, this time slower. The boy copied his position, blue eyes wide with wonder. “Marshall Lee,” The Prince repeated gently, earning a head tilt in the opposite direction.

“Mar… shall… Lee…” The little dark-haired boy repeated. When the older nodded, he grinned. Clapping his hands together, the boy then pointed to his companion. “Burrton!”

“Burton,” the strawberry-blonde laughed. “But I guess that works.”

The rest of the night was spent talking to the child until the boy finally fell victim to exhaustion, curling up in his lap and all but passing out. With the carefulness of a surgeon, the teenager eased him under his blankets and shrugged off his clothes, changing into a pair of sleeping trousers and a loose shirt.

Marshall didn’t wake as he slid into bed next to him and settled down and after watching the small form sleep for several moments, Burton leaned over and blew out the candle at his bed side, whispering a gentle, “Good night,” into the air before drifting off.

* * *

To his surprise, the little dragon boy was there the next morning, sitting on the bottom of his bed with a curious look. And that was how he found him every morning thereafter for the next two weeks, each day waking up with a wide smile.

His parents hadn’t bothered to ask. In fact, he wouldn’t have been surprised if they didn’t notice. He took his meals in his room, ordering more meat than anything else. The servants had delivered some of his childhood clothing and he’d somehow managed to get Marshall to wear them, despite quite a bit of fighting. The Prince made sure to keep the boy’s wings hidden, especially when others were around.

Ultimately there had to be a slip up, however. He’d been a fool to think that he could keep a thing like this under wraps for the rest of his life. Eventually someone was going to find out and two weeks later, someone did.

He’d been shrugging a button-up on the little boy after a bath when his uncle had entered his room, uninvited. Instantly, the man had gasped, no doubt appalled at the fact that Burton had a child in his room. Then he’d laid his eyes upon the wings as Marshall jerked back, covering himself with them in alarm.

“Uncle Leimon-” The Prince cried, but it was too late. The man was shouting, declaring that the guards cease the boy. Marshall was panicking, screaming in alarm with tears welling up in his confused blue eyes. Men were storming the room and his father was standing in the doorway, looking upon the little boy as if he’d been handed a pot full of gold.

A weapon. Without a second thought, he was thinking of this innocent child as a _weapon_.

And so, not giving himself time to doubt it, the teenager pulled his dark-haired friend into his arms and ducked away from the guards, running from the room. He heard his uncle cry for them to follow from behind him, but he didn’t allow himself to think about it. Far faster than any of them, it was no surprise when Burton burst through the doors of the stables before the men had even exited the palace.

“Your Highness-” The stable-boy gasped in alarm, but he didn’t bother answering. With Marshall still shrieking in his arms, the crowned Prince climbed upon the only saddled horse and burst through the doorway, tears staining his cheeks.

He couldn’t let them make a slave out of this scared little boy. He knew that no matter what it took, he would protect the child sobbing against him with his life and he would never let his father lay a hand on him.

And so, with a heavy heart and his stomach in his mouth, Burton ran from his home toward the snow-capped mountains of the Ice Kingdom, where he knew no guard would dare follow for fear of angering the Ice Queen.

He knew they would be safe… at least for the time being.


	2. A secret in the forest

Outside of the room, the wind had finally let up. In response, people were dancing and enjoying themselves. Someone was playing music – his second in command, no doubt – and there was a general good feeling in the air.

His attention was elsewhere up, however, the happy mood completely lost on him. Violet eyes gazed down at a massive hand-drawn map, carved wooden pieces placed meticulously on it. Teeth were digging into a chapped bottom lip, strawberry blonde hair hanging lazily down from his head.

Just as he was reaching out to move a piece, a small mewl caught his attention. Looking up, the man laid his gaze upon a figure standing in the doorway, dressed in a heavy black bear pelt which was dotted with white snow. Dark hair framed a pale face and pale blue eyes peered up at him.

“Burrton?” 16-year-old Marshall Lee inquired curiously, taking an almost nervous step forward. In one hand he held a silver instrument, given to him by a lovely woman with long white hair. Ah, so it wasn’t him who had been making the music. It wasn’t really a surprise.

“Come on in, Marshall,” Burton stated, motioning him inside. The small form moved forward, taking a seat in one of the provide chairs. “And call me Bubba when others are around, please.”

“Sorry,” The younger replied, placing the object in his lap and holding up a hand. He paused, resting his eyes on the other man, only to begin playing when he earned a nod.

The dragon boy’s music was different from the cheerful, loud sounds coming from outside the room. It was slow and steady, with a hint of sadness in its depths.  Yet, for some reason, it calmed the older man’s nerves, allowing him to think more clearly.

Gazing at the markings on the map that represented the Kingdom that had once been his, the tall man let out a slow sigh, his shoulders falling. Once upon the time he’d been the crowned Prince of the Earth Kingdom… now he stood as the head general in the Ice Kingdom, which was really little more than an area full of snow-capped mountains and tiny villages.

“Bubs~!” A voice cheered and his eyes lifted as a thickly dressed woman with long black hair came in. The music had stopped, meaning Marceline must have been the one playing it. With a grin on her face, she waved a hand toward Marshall before holding it out toward the strawberry-blonde. “Come on! Have some fun with us. Bonnie’s making stew!”

“Bonnibel’s stew is dissgusting,” Marshall commented, earning a glare from the woman. “What? It is.”

“I’m sorry we can’t all have your refined taste buds, your scaliness,” She sneered, earning a confused look from him.

“Sc…al…i…” The teenager attempted, trying to understand the word, before his gaze turned toward Burton in confusion.

“She’s speaking of things we promised we _wouldn’t_ ,” He reminded, shooting Marceline a glare, only to earn a shrug in response.  “And I can’t come, Marcy. I’m sorry. I have too much work to do.”

“Oh come on!” She cried, throwing her arms up. “Live a little, okay? Jeeze, your hair is going to start falling out if you don’t stop worrying so much about this stuff.”

“The Earth Kingdom has already killed two dozen of our soldiers,” The once-prince reminded, earning two frowns from the dark-haired duo with him. “I can’t just… ‘Stop worrying’. I have to plan for their next attack.”

Silent for a moment, the woman eventually let out a sigh of defeat, before muttering, “You should at least eat.”

After receiving a nod from Marshall, the tall man gave a slow breath before pulling away from the map and heading for the doorway. As he passed, the seated teenager got up to follow him, shooting the tall woman a smile.

Ten years had passed since his departure from his kingdom. They’d been rough, but he’d made a life for himself within these walls and he wouldn’t pass up on it for the world.

Their camp was based at the top of the city, along a tall wall of ice with a ledge barely thirty feet across. The strategy room was built straight into the side of it, along with the entrance of the palace, where he resided with Marshall. The Ice Queen, Simone, adored the young man and had offered them solace in her home without hesitation.

Bonnibel – a strawberry blonde with long hair – offered him a gentle smile from her place in front of the camp fire, a pot of stew cooking before her. As much as he hated to admit it, Marshall was right about her cooking… it was terrible. She could work wonders with a set of magic potions – their resident alchemist – but when it came to a stove the girl was like a fish out of water.

Marcy took a seat between her and a younger boy named Finn, who was laughing at something his best friend – a burly blonde called Jake – had declared loudly. Around them were several other members of his less than 50 people team. In a city full of barely 200, he was lucky to even have that many and truth be told, there were several he wished he could let go of due to age… but they needed the man power.

“Hey, Mar!” Jake called, lifting up one arm and grinning. With a meek smile, the teenager took a seat beside him and allowed the man the pull him against his side. “Bubba spending too much time hiding away again?”

“Yes,” The black-haired boy responded, earning a laugh. Blue eyes glanced at Burton, who took a seat beside Bonnibel and watched him without trying to be obvious about it. “He’s working too hard.”

Frowning, the strawberry-blonde cleared his throat and declared, “Meeting after this, so get your fill.”

A collective groan followed and Bonnibel began to dish out the food, ignoring the tight smiles of the army members, most of whom were considering going to bed hungry instead of eating her stew.

None of the members of the Ice Kingdom army – except for Marceline - knew of Marshall’s true form. The dark-haired woman had walked in on Marshall changing about a year ago and had promised to keep his secret. Even though she had a big mouth, she had managed to keep it to herself and Burton was extremely thankful to her for it. He was sure that if his troops knew of the boy’s nature, they would try to force him to fight for them.

After scarfing down their food, the group gathered as best they could in the large strategy room, while Burton shoved the dark-haired teenager back toward the palace despite his protests of, _I can help_! The boy was constantly resisting, trying to become part of the army, but the General refused to let him. He couldn’t risk the dragon’s life… he cared about him far too much.

When the meeting concluded, he departed from his team for the night, leaving a majority of them at the camp. Usually he spent his nights there, but after Marceline all but pushing him up the steps to the palace, he finally agreed to spend some time with the boy he considered to be his best friend.

Unfortunately, when he entered the hallway that lead to their rooms, he had to sigh in frustration. He could hear Marshall yelling about something or other, storming around his room and likely breaking things. No doubt he was mid-way through a fit after being pushed out of the meeting and although it had lasted some time, the strawberry-blonde wasn’t quite surprised.

As a teenager, it wasn’t shocking that the younger was prone to dramatic outbursts. But, as the taller man had come to find, it seemed that dragons had tempers that were extremely difficult to control. When the boy became upset, sometimes he would get so intense that he would thrash around and break things. After years of being frustrated with Marshall Lee for it, Burton eventually came to the realization that his companion wasn’t quite at fault.

He was a large, majestic creature stuck in a tiny human body. After a few books on the subject, he found that dragons took out their frustration on each other with friendly battles. On top of that, they hunted for their own food and released their tension by flying. His companion was unable to do any of those things, instead forced to keep all of the tension meant for a massive being bottled up inside.

One thing he had to hand to Marshall, though, was his ability to stay in his hidden form. He’d never slipped up and honestly, the General couldn’t remember what the boy’s other form looked like.

Tonight seemed like another bad night, however, and Burton readied himself for another struggle. With a light wrist, he knocked on the bedroom door, before pushing it open.

The room, like the rest of the palace, was made up of ice walls. The floor was coated in thick pelts to keep them from slipping and the bed matched, thin pillows barely offering any support. His dressers and bed posts were made of stone, as well as the desk in the corner, which was currently turned upside down.

Marshall was curled up in a corner, arms wrapped around his middle. His entire form was shaking, head down and dark hair spilling over the back of his neck like a beautiful painting. As the General approached, he had to stop for a moment to admire the boy he had watched grow from a small child into a beautiful young man.

“Go away.”

Strawberry blonde eyebrows shot up in surprise and the older stopped mid-stride, frowning. “Marshall?”

Bright blue eyes turned toward him, narrowed in frustration. It seemed the boy was full of anger and he was having difficulty containing it. “Go away,” He repeated, rather coldly.

With a heavy sigh, the tall man held up his hands. “Marshall, it’s okay. You’re not going to hurt me. We’ve been through this before, alright? You’ve never hurt me before-”

“It’s not that!” Turning to face him in a crouched position, the dark-haired boy was full-on glaring now, his entire body stiff. He looked about ready to pounce, but was resisting it with difficulty. “I don’t want you around!” As the other took a step back in alarm, the teenager snapped to his feet, throwing his arms out in frustration before wrapping them around himself, as if to hold his human form together. “You’re never around me anyway. I’ve had to deal with this by myself for a long time. You’re always gone. You don’t get to just… just come in here _now_ and help me. I can do it by myself!”

Ah, so that was it. Marshall was feeling ignored and alone. Burton could remember feeling the same way around that age, before he’d run away with the dragon. On top of that, the younger had to deal with a ton of pent up frustration and having the one person he could rely on not there to help him must have been difficult.

Instead of ignoring the other’s demands, however, the General reached out and scooped the boy into his arms, holding him against his chest. Immediately, the teen began to yell and thrash, trying in vain to push the taller man off of him. In that moment, his companion was glad that a majority of his intense strength was muted by his form, but those small hands still packed quite a punch as they pushed against him. Eventually, however, the other boy calmed and went still in his arms.

“I’m sorry,” The older whispered, burying his face into the younger’s hair, letting his eyes slip shut. “I know I haven’t been around. I’m so sorry, Marshall.”

“…It’s fine,” came the meek response, followed by a sigh. “I know the city needs you. It’s selfish of me to want your attention when people are dying out there.”

Reaching up, Burton began to run his fingers through the boy’s hair. He leaned down, then, and pressed his lips to the side of Marshall’s head, before releasing him and pulling away. “It isn’t selfish. Now come on, let’s get you ready for bed. It’s late.”

“Yes, mother,” Came the groaned response, earning a small smile from the older man. He watched quietly as the boy he’d raised shrugged off his outer cloak and shivered. He politely turned away as the teen undressed and changed into a thick pair of night clothes.

Doing the same, the General slipped into their shared bed and curled up with his back to his companion, who dozed off almost instantly. The teen was quick to rest, but he was an extremely light sleeper, which meant if the older so much as sneezed he would wake up.

With a slow breath, Burton closed his eyes and attempted to drift off, feeling the pit of his stomach twist. He had a feeling something bad was going to happen in his absence.

* * *

The next morning when he awoke, Marshall was already long gone. The boy’s cloak was missing as well, which was no big surprise seeing as most of the city was made of ice and as a creature of the Fire Kingdom, the teenager was built to handle a warmer climate.

Dressing quickly and swearing he would catch a bath sometime soon (though he was likely overdue for one), the General headed down to his camp to find things perfectly in order, despite his fears the previous night. Marcy and Bonnibel were seated by the camp fire, huddled together and chatting quietly with smiles on their features.

“Hello, Marceline. Bonnibel.” As he approached, the two girls moved apart, though they kept their hands clasped together. “I trust the night went well?”

“Went off without a hitch, boss,” Jake called from nearby, where he was practicing with Finn and a pair of swords.

With a solid nod, the strawberry blonde turned to gaze at his second command and her wife once more. “Have you seen Marshall Lee?”

“Mar?” Marceline questioned, perking up a bit. She spared a glance at the smaller woman beside her, who hummed for a moment.

“I saw him going down to the city,” Bonnie said with a nod toward the ladder situated a little ways away. “Said something about getting breakfast.”

A frown crossed Burton’s lips. He was never fond of Marshall going down to the town. The people down there were kind, but his social skills weren’t really that great. Yes, the rest of the team adored him, but they knew about his fiery temper and awkward demeanor. The people in the city found him weird and often times rude, even when he wasn’t meaning to be.

“You know,” The light-haired woman hummed, earning his attention once more. “You should go down there, Bubba. It’s been some time since you’ve seen the city. I bet a whole generation has come and gone since you’ve set foot on a stone.”

“Ha, ha,” The General huffed as she grinned and her wife laughed. He decided to take the advice, however, if only to search for his dark-haired companion.

After checking in to make sure everything was still up and running, the tall man began the descent down the long ladder, into the city.

Several people greeted him as he moved through the town, crossing through the small streets toward the market, where the hunters and gatherers traded with one another. In such a small city, there wasn’t really a need for currency, the people there instead using their goods to swap for other things.

Immediately he headed toward the meat stall to see if they’d seen his dark-haired companion, but the appearance of two little girls at his feet stopped him before he could get there.

“Hi, General Bubba!” The older one said, giving him a wave. He smiled down at them and responded with a quiet, _hello_ , in hopes they would leave. Instead, the two looked at each other, before the older burst, “Sarah said she saw a dragon in the woods!”

“I _did_!” The girl next to her whined with wide eyes. They both missed the way the man tensed, sucking in a deep breath through his nose. The child’s eyes turned up toward him, wide with wonder. “It was big and black and it was hiding in the trees!”

“Sarah’s a liar, though,” The other girl informed, crossing her arms over her chest. “So you shouldn’t listen to her.”

“I’m not lying!” Sarah declared, stomping her foot. “I saw it, I saw it!”

“Duh, Sarah, everyone _knows_ dragons live in the Fire Kingdom,” Her friend huffed, rolling her eyes. “They can’t even survive in the snow! They’d freeze to death!”

“Nuh-uh, Amy!”

“Yeah _huh_!”

“Girls,” Burton sighed, placing a hand on each of their shoulders. They both gazed up at him in surprise, as if they’d forgotten he was there. “I’ll look into it, okay?”

“Okay!” Both called, before they weaved around him and started off down the road, still bickering.

With a stomach of stone, the strawberry-blonde turned his gaze back toward the market and felt his head float with anger and frustration.

What was Marshall _thinking_!? Hanging around in the woods… as a dragon!? Where people could _see_ him!? If anyone else had spotted him they would have him killed or, at the very least, captured!

Trying to let the rage cycle through him, the tall man headed for the meat stand, hoping at the very least that the woman there had seen the teenager… because when he found him, he was going to _kill_ him.


	3. A Kingdom of ruin

“Oh, he’s been around.”

The woman at the meat stand was packaging up some fresh deer for another customer, but she answered his questions simply enough, flashing him a smile.

“Nice boy,” she stated with a nod. “Spends a lot of time with my husband.” As Burton’s eyebrows lifted, she quickly shook her head. “No, no. He has a real eye for a good cut of meat. Brings in things sometimes… deer and what not. How he carries it is beyond me. He’s so skinny! Is he eating?”

A deep frown crossed the General’s face at these words. Marshall was… catching deer and bringing them into town? What in the world…? If he’d been hunting out of hunger, he would have simply eaten his kill. The only reason to bring it in to the city was to trade it for something else, so what could he want so badly that he was willing to sneak out to get?

“Ah! There he is,” She declared, bringing the strawberry-blonde back into reality. He turned, laying his eyes on the teenager, who froze instantly in his spot.

“…Yes, there he is,” Burton repeated, cocking one eyebrow, earning a nervous laugh from his companion. “…There he is indeed.”

* * *

“What were you _thinking_!?”

Marshall Lee stumbled with a sour look on his face as the tall man pushed him into their shared room, a stern look on his own features. The teenager crossed his arms, turning away completely, his lips sealed.

Groaning, the older placed a hand against his forehead, trying not to snap. “ _Honestly_ …” He groaned, finding it very difficult not to completely lose it on the other boy. “If you had gotten caught, Marshall…”

“Caught doing what? Going to the city? I didn’t realize that was off limits,” Came the huffed response, earning a deep frown.

“…No,” The General let out slowly, as if speaking to a kid. A childish groan left the other. “Going _outside_ of the city.”

“Ugh!” The dark-haired boy cried, before he spun around. “I didn't go out there!”

Finally allowing himself to give into the drama and cross his arms, Burton couldn’t help but cock one hip to the side. “Oh, you didn’t?”

“No, I didn’t!” Marshall snapped, fists clenched at his side.

“Sarah Maraen told me you did,” the General informed, causing the other boy to roll his eyes in an exaggerated fashion.

“Oh, _great_ ,” The pale boy groaned. “You’re going to base it on _Sarah Maraen_. Everyone knows she’s a _liar_!”

“Enough!”

Instantly, the teenager stopped, turning to stare at him with wide eyes.

It was very rare that the older man raised his voice toward the boy he had watched grow, but when he did, it meant serious business. He prided himself on being patient and kind, if not understanding, so the fact that he’d been frustrated enough to yell was enough to freeze the dragon in his tracks.

“You are _staying_ in this room,” Burton stated, leaving no room for argument. Marshall’s lips straightened and he didn’t bother to respond. “Do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir,” Came the tight reply. It cut deep. Their relationship had never really come to this kind of situation… usually, they were more like friends then an authority figure and a child. But then again, the younger boy had never acted out of line. He supposed he should have seen it coming… after all, at this age, the General had been sneaking out as well.

A moment of silence passed between them, before the older turned and left, the air around them stiff and cold. His shoulders felt tense as he closed the door behind himself, pausing in the hallway for a few moments before deciding to let the situation roll of his back.

There was a war going on, after all.

* * *

Marceline gazed down at the map with him, her long braid spilling over her shoulder. She was speaking, saying something about the north wall and protecting it, but his thoughts were lost.

“Bubs?” The woman inquired, finally cutting into the haze that surrounded him. She was frowning, brown eyes seeming concerned.

“Did you ever sneak out as a teenager?” Burton blurted, only to frown to himself. He needed to keep his personal life out of his work life… there was a city of people that needed him, but he couldn’t seem to get Marshall off of his mind.

A small smirk crossed the girl’s pale lips, before she shrugged. “Doesn’t everybody? There’s  nothing weird about it, Bubba. He’s a kid. He’s emotional. Teenagers do things like that. Besides, it’s not like he went outside the city.”

Sighing, the man let his shoulders drop. “That’s just it. Sarah Maraen said she saw a dragon in the woods.”

Instantly, Marceline scoffed, earning a surprised look from him. “Everyone knows Sarah’s a liar,” She informed, rolling her eyes. “You can’t believe a word she says. She’d probably say the sky is green and then swear up and down that it is.”

Sucking in a deep breath, Burton decided not to mention what the meat woman had said about his teenage companion gathering deer for her husband. Instead, he returned to their plans, agreeing that they should reinforce the north wall.

* * *

It took him a few days to return to the palace, completely caught up in plans and barely catching any sleep. In that time, he didn’t check on Marshall, convinced the boy was still up in his room pouting, probably in the midst of one of his intense fits. However, when he finally gathered his thoughts and made the climb up to his room, he was alarmed to find it empty.

“…Marshall?” The man called, peeking a head into the bathroom. A frown crossed his features and he began to panic. There was no way the teen could have made it through the camp without someone seeing him. He doubted the boy was anywhere else in the palace, but he made the trek through it anyways, stopping only when he laid eyes upon the Queen, Simone.

“I saw him hanging around the back balcony,” She informed, her white hair twisted up in an extravagant bun. She was a lonely woman, young and beautiful, with pale skin and a blue dress. She’d taken a real liking to Marshall, attracted to an ‘inner warmth’ within him. Honestly, the old witch put Burton on edge, but he didn’t mention it, seeing as she was giving them a very nice place to live and if it weren’t for her, they wouldn’t have been allowed into the Ice Kingdom’s capitol at all. “That was about an hour ago. I haven’t seen him since.”

Cursing under his breath, the General didn’t wait around to hear anything more. He rushed down the stairs and climbed down the outpost’s ladder, heading for the main gate in a furious storm.

Had Marshall really snuck out from the _balcony_!? The thing was nearly two hundred feet off of the ground, meaning he could have only gotten down one way. Yes, he knew the dark-haired boy was a teenager, but could he have really been that _stupid_?! He could have been seen!

Ceasing his movements as he spotted a black-clad figure slipping in the gate with a few other hunters, a deer slung over his small shoulder, Burton stepped behind a stall and watched from afar. He didn’t want to confront the boy in public, knowing that his temper was still raging and if he did he would likely lose cause a scene.

Instead, he watched as the dark-haired dragon slipped up the butcher’s open work station and placed the deer down on the table. The man smiled at him widely, clasping the boy on the back.

“Thanks, Marshall,” the General heard him say with a sigh of relief. “This’ll really help me pay the medic for those herbs my daughter needs.”

“I’m happy to help, Mr. Finnan,” The teenager replied with a smile.

“Here,” The butcher suddenly declared, handing over a few wrapped chunks of meat. “This should be the last of what you need. Marina said she would be done with your order, so just take this over to her and you’ll be all set.”

With a polite bow, the dragon boy thanked the man and bid him farewell, before crossing away from his open shop. Curiously, his companion watched after him, finding himself confused and concerned. Marina was the black smith of the town… she was the one who made all of the blades for the army.

It was obvious that Marshall had been sneaking out and that he’d lied about it, but… Mr. Finnan’s daughter had been sick for a while and he owed a lot to the medic. He’d been struggling to return the man’s good will, so much that he and his wife had been going hungry. Recently, their intake of meat had been rising… had the teenager been dropping his catches by as a selfless gift?

After watching the boy enter Marina’s shop with his arms full of meat, Burton swallowed up his pride and decided to trust just trust the boy he’d raised. Although he’d broken the rules and lied about it, the dark-haired teen had been doing it for a good reason and it was something he could respect.

It took a lot of strength, but he managed to drag himself back to the camp, holding his head high and ignoring his team as they glanced at him openly.

“It’s hard to let them go,” Jake offered, clasping him on the back. “The wife and I have five, ourselves, remember? The oldest is about Mar’s age. I can sympathize, man.”

“…Does it ever get easier?” The General asked, glancing down the side of the ice wall, down at the city. It seemed so small from up there, like he was watching the world around him from a mountain.

“It doesn’t,” The blonde offered honestly, before patting his back once more and moving away. “Finn! Let’s get back to those drills.”

“Okay!” Came the excited response.

For a few moments, Burton stared numbly down at the city, before he turned as a gentle hand rested upon his shoulder.

Marceline smiled at him gently, lowering her hand. “I told you, Bubs. He’s just a kid. They grow up, they move on. It’s a part of life. Even a kid like Mar has to grow up eventually.”

With a heavy sigh, the General brushed off her words and called out, gathering his men in for a meeting. He intended to set up the reinforcements at the north wall, hoping to prevent a major attack before it could start.

* * *

The meeting lasted well into the evening. At one point, he glanced over and spotted the dark-haired teenager passing by, making no effort to hide his appearance there. Either he didn’t care about getting caught, or he was well aware of the older man’s knowledge of him sneaking out. Whichever way it was, the strawberry blonde was happy to see him returning to the palace, safe and sound.

When their gathering finally broke up, Marcy and Bonnie all but bullied him into returning home, practically pushing him up the steps to the palace. For some reason, he found himself resisting, not wanting to face the young boy whom he’d always found to be a joy.

As much as he hated to admit it, Marshall Lee _was_ growing up and… the thought scared him. Before all this business about the teenager sneaking out, he’d always viewed the boy as a child… but at some point the dragon had grown into a young adult.

He didn’t want to believe it was real. He didn’t want the dark-haired boy to grow up… he didn’t want to lose him. Because if the boy moved on he couldn’t shield him anymore… he couldn’t keep him safe.

He couldn’t protect him from a distance.

The teenager was seated on their shared bed as he entered the room, eyes downcast. As soon as Burton opened the icy door, however, his eyes lifted and a small smile crossed his lips. With the fluidity of a river, Marshall stood, approaching with hurried steps.

“I have something to show you!” The pale boy declared, moving behind his companion and putting his hands over the man’s violet eyes. “No peaking!”

“What?” the General found himself blurting as he was nudged forward. “Oh… right, okay.” He stumbled forward on the pelt-covered floor until his knees bumped into the large bed.

The teen directed his gaze downward, before removing thin hands and yelling out an excited, “ _Ta-da!_ ”

Surprise flooded through the tall man’s veins, before a wave of overwhelming value settled deep in his heart, a smile crossing his usually stern features.

Lying on the bed, wrapped in a bit of wolf skin, was a set of small throwing knives. They were made from fine silver, their hilts decorated in tightly woven leather. Beside them was a strap meant to hide beneath a set of trousers, where they were to be kept.

His favorite weapon… it had been some time since he’d been able to use such a thing. All of his battles against his father’s men had been hand to hand, with clunky swords or heavy axes. No… Burton preferred a much smoother weapon, a quick flick of his wrist deadly and sharp. Of course, no one really knew such a thing… except for Marshall.

Slowly, the General turned to gaze at the boy he had spent a good portion of his life with. And in that moment, with those soft features smiling at him, framed by the moonlight spilling in through the window… the little boy he’d once seen was suddenly a young man. But instead of mourning the loss of a child he had once loved, he now welcomed a young man into his arms, hugging the shorter form close to his body and burying his face into dark locks.

“Thank you,” Burton breathed, feeling his heart warm as he held the other close. How long had it been since they’d done this, sans the other’s fits of rage? He had to admit, he missed the feeling of the younger boy being in his arms.

Instead of saying anything – what was there to be said, really? He knew everything about the situation… the sneaking around, the hunting, all to make him this weapon – the teenager pulled back and placed soft pale fingers on warm cheeks, a smile on his features.

And then, with no warning, Marshall Lee leaned in and pressed their lips together.

Before the General had time to react – his heart stopping dead in his chest – he heard a scream from below the window and his companion turned and let out a gasp. Sluggishly, the older moved his eyes toward the glass as soldiers dressed in the browns and greens of the Earth Kingdom slid down the sides of the palace on thick ropes.

…The top! They’d attacked from the top! His team hadn’t been expecting this. They’d prepared for anything, for any direction… but not from the _top_!

The dark-haired boy let out a gasp as his companion suddenly grabbed hold of his arm, dragging him toward the bathroom. As if realizing what was going on, he began to fight, letting out cries of, “No! I can help!” Before he was all but tossed on to the pelt rug in front of the bathtub.

“Burrton!” The teenager pled, struggling to get to his feet. By the time he’d managed to, the older was shutting the door and reaching over, laying his hand on a small sapphire that was placed in the wall. “Burrton, please! I can help!” Stepping back, the man watched with a straight face as the wall iced over layer by layer, causing the room to completely disappear. To anyone else, it would seem as if there had never been a room there in the first place. He could just barely make out Marshall’s cries of, “Burrton!” As he grabbed hold of the throwing knives and strapped them to his leg beneath his trousers.

Cursing himself for not keeping a sword in the room, Burton burst from its depths, storming down the halls and out of the palace.

The camp was in shambles. The army hadn’t been prepared for an attack, that much was obvious. They were struggling, several of them on the ground. The Earth Kingdom had at least double their soldiers and most of his men had been unarmed when they’d attacked. Beneath the wall, he could see that the city had at least a hundred more warriors in it, the people screaming and cowering.

With a brutal yell, the General sprang forward, slamming his body into an unsuspecting Earth Solider. As the man stumbled, he grabbed hold of his sword and tore it from his hands, before shoving it through his back. Another quick movement sent him flying forward, clashing his weapon in front of a burly man who had been swinging an axe toward Finn, who had dropped his sword on the ground.

“Bubba!” Marceline cried from somewhere in front of him, catching his attention. Immediately he turned, suddenly aware of a form towering behind him, his sword at the ready.

Seconds later it hit the floor as a blade cut into his lower arm, perfectly aimed. It sliced deep, but the wound wasn’t enough to do much more then scar so long as he bandaged it soon. These thoughts were the least of his worries, however, as he gripped the cut tightly and glared down the long blade at his uncle, Leimon, who sneered in response.

“So, we meet again,” The man hummed, sparing a glance toward the battle as the last of Burton’s troops fell, most of them suffering minor wounds, but not a single one harmed beyond that. The man’s cold eyes turned back toward him and the General had to hold back the bit of saliva that was just begging to be spat into the other’s face. With one rough motion, Leimon waved a hand around and called, “Gather up the stronger looking ones. Remember, they are _not_ to be harmed. Leave the rest here.”

Confusion clouded Burton’s mind as the Earth soldiers began to snap shackles on most of his army, hauling them to their feet. The ones that were deemed ‘not worthy’ were pushed to the side, including Finn and Bonnibel, who reached desperately for her wife as Marceline was tugged down the ladder with Jake and a dozen others.

Growling in frustration as he watched his team be hauled away, the strawberry-blonde resisted a wince as his uncle grabbed his injured arm and twisted it behind his back, before slapping a shackle onto each wrist.

“I have waited to do this for so long,” The snake hissed into his ear, gripping the wound even tighter. Still, the General refused to react. “And now, I will enjoy watching your men die one by one until you reveal where you’ve got it hidden.”

Stumbling as he was shoved toward the ladder, the General only let himself react as his uncle called, “Burn the city,” before walking past him. Letting out a horrified scream as he saw Earth warriors begin to light torches, Burton fought as he was dragged downward, staring into the horrified eyes of Bonnibel and the people surrounding her.

He feared that he would return to find his city and his people in ruin… or perhaps he feared that he would not return at all.


	4. An eye for an eye

The ride to the Earth Kingdom was two days long and each passing moment, Burton felt his heart struggling to beat in his chest. He and his strongest warriors were huddled together in a bar-covered carriage, hungry and thirsty. Numerous Earth soldiers surrounded them, eyes elsewhere and lips straight.

Marceline was curled up at his side, more silent then he could ever remember her being. It was obvious the mistreatment of her wife had affected her, her shoulders tense and her eyes downcast. She hadn’t said a word, but he could feel the fear coming off of her in waves and honestly, he couldn’t blame her.

His mind, however, was elsewhere. As much as he tried not to let it show, the strawberry-blonde was terrified. He’d pushed Marshall into the hidden bathroom to keep him safe, expecting a battle that would last perhaps a day at most… he hadn’t been anticipating a capture and at this rate he wouldn’t be able to return for another two days, even if he broke free and ran. There was no food in that room and no source of heat. If the boy didn’t starve to death first, he would die from the cold.

He could only hope that Simone would figure it out and release him.

The castle loomed over him like a bad taste in his mouth as they entered the Earth Kingdom’s capitol. From the corner of his eye, the General saw his uncle give him a glance, but he choose to ignore it, keeping his eyes forward and his head held high.

As a whole, the group was tossed into the dark, wet dungeons and left there for some time. Jake shoved a shoulder against Marceline and spoke her quietly, trying to assure her that Bonnibel was fine and that the Ice Queen had no doubt put a quick stop to the fires, but the dark-haired woman didn’t offer a response, her lips tight.

Sometime later, after most of his captured army had finally passed out from exhaustion, the group was alerted to the sound of someone entering the dungeons and approaching them. Instantly, his warriors were at attention, gazes intense as Leimon stepped up to the gate of their cell.

“You,” He said in disgust, nodding toward Burton, before he glanced around the group. “And your second in command. Come with me.”

Sparing a glance at Marcy, the General got to his feet and moments later she followed. Together they stepped up to the gate, heads held high and faces blank.

The blonde-haired man sneered in disgust, turning toward a small form beside him and motioning toward the gate. “I’m not surprised your second is a _woman_. It’s no wonder your army fell so quickly.”

“She’s twice the man you could ever hope to be,” Jake replied coldly, earning a small smirk from the dark-haired woman as she followed her leader through the opened entrance.

Still with that sickened look on his face, Leimon began walking. Burton and his companion followed after when prompted by the small form, who appeared to be a child, no more than 14.

They were led up the stairways of the dungeon and onto the streets of the capitol, where various eyes turned and fell upon them in open curiosity and confusion. The General lowered his head, praying to the gods that he didn’t quite believe in, in hopes that no one would recognize him. No one on his team knew of his true identity and he really didn’t want them to find out. They would feel betrayed and he had no doubt that they would then figure out the real reason that the Earth Kingdom was so intent on destroying them.

From there, the little kid – a girl, he realized, though she wasn’t dressed as one – took them into the palace, following his uncle’s steps. She wound through several halls, before stopping outside of a door that he instantly recognized as the council room, where the King would meet to discuss both politics and war.

Marceline sucked in a deep breath, but Burton forced himself not to. In that moment he felt like he could breathe fire, the pit of his stomach heated and his nostrils burning. His heart seemed to be pounding out of his chest as the girl pushed open the door and Leimon stepped in, the two of them only a few feet behind him.

Seated at the head of the table, ten years older yet still seeming as strong and sturdy as always, was his father. With his face held high and a blank expression, the man gazed upon him with unreadable violet eyes, his sturdy form seeming twice as big as the strawberry-blonde remembered it being.

“Now, now, brother,” The King said, motioning toward the captive duo. “Are we barbarians? You there. Girl.” The child jumped in surprise, eyes wide. “Release them.”

“Your Maj-” His sibling began, only to fall silent as he was interrupted.

“We are here to have a civilized conversation,” The larger man informed sternly. He nodded once more to the girl, who immediately removed the key ring from her hip and unlocked the shackles, before stepping away.

Marceline looked to Burton for support as his father motioned for them to sit down. With a blank expression, her leader pulled back a seat and fell into it rather unceremoniously, causing his second in command to mimic him only a few seconds later.

“Now,” The Earth King began, folding his hands together and resting his elbows on the table. He leaned in close, violet eyes stern and unforgiving. “We negotiate.”

“Not interested,” His son replied immediately, earning a small frown from the woman next to him.

The King’s eyes narrowed and he let out a slow, controlled breath. “You tell us where you’re hiding the dragon and we’ll let your team go, unharmed.”

“Again… not interested,” Burton repeated, crossing his arms over his chest in an almost child-like manor and sitting back. He felt like a teenager again, defying his father’s rules. It reopened old scars and it left an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach, but he knew that unlike then, he would not buckle down to authority.

“Now listen here, your ungrateful little-” Leimon started, getting up from his chair. He halted only as his brother held up a hand, a stern look on his face. Sneering, the blonde took a seat once more, fists clenched on the table.

“Are you really willing to risk the lives of your men for one creature?” The King inquired, almost smirking as the corners of his son’s lips twitched into a frown. “And how do they feel about that? Hm? You there.” His eyes turned to Marceline, who returned his look with an emotionless one. “Is it worth your life? What about all of your friends? Your family?”

She didn’t offer an answer, but the General knew the gears in her head were turning. She was a smart woman… he had no doubt that she was putting together the pieces.

“This is ridiculous!” Leimon shrieked after several moments of silence, throwing his arms into the air. “Unacceptable! Throw them back into the dungeon!”

The little girl sprang to her feet, only to freeze as the King slammed a fist down. “No!” He shouted, making both his brother and Marceline jump. Getting to his feet, the man leaned across the table, staring intensely into his son’s eyes. “Burton,” He breathed almost lovingly, in the way he had when the boy was only a child. “Please, cease this foolishness… we want you to come home.”

It was a lie. As nice as it sounded, the General knew that his father was a politician. He manipulated people using his words and somehow, he seemed to have forgotten that his child knew exactly what he was. A King… a player of speech and a user of anyone he could get his hands on. And above all else… a liar.

And so, fully aware that it could have been the biggest mistake he’d ever made in his life… Burton sucked in a deep breath and spat on the table, right before the Earth King.

For a few moments, silence fell upon the room. Marceline had a shocked, if not horrified look upon her face. The little girl in the corner was holding one hand over her mouth in alarm, her brown eyes large and round. His father, face still, was gazing down at the table silently and Leimon looked beyond upset, rage crossing his features.

In one swift movement, the General’s uncle snapped out, grasping hold of the front of his wolf-pelt cloak. The chair that he had been seated in overturned as he was pulled from it, struggling to keep his footing as the large man held him up, their faces inches apart.

“You ungrateful worm,” The man sneered. His breath smelled of rotten lemons. “You will watch your men die one by one until you beg to tell us where it is!”

A slow, silent breath left his nephew’s lips as violet eyes gazed into the brown ones of the large blonde before him. Burton felt his stomach twist in both fear and anticipation as he slowly slipped a hand beneath his trousers and gripped the small hilt of one of the thin throwing knives that Marshall had made for him.

“The only one I will watch die,” He whispered, his words stern and solid. “Is you.”

With one quick movement, the Earth Kingdom Price pulled the knife from its hidden position and thrust it into his uncle’s eye, shoving it hilt-deep. The man let out a shriek like a dying harpy and released him, stumbling away as blood began to pour down his face in waves, spilling across his fingers as he tried in vain to remove the blade.

Within moments, Leimon fell to the ground, unmoving.

Before the strawberry-blonde could say anything more, his arms were being forced behind him as he was dragged from the room, expression blank. Marceline gazed after him in shock, the little girl’s face one that mimicked it almost completely. His father, however, was still, cold eyes staring down the son he had departed from all of those years ago.

He had thought the war one-sided. Assumed the Ice Kingdom stood no chance of fighting back. He’d had no faith in his son, who had been raised to handle politics instead of a sword…

But here, standing in his council room, his child had become a man. And the Ice Kingdom had become a threat.

* * *

For what felt like days, Burton sat, locked in a small cell with stone walls and no way of seeing the rest of his team. No one came to see him, giving him no explanation of what was going on. He feared the worst… assumed that his best were dying because of him and he couldn’t seem to wipe the look on Bonnibel’s face as Marceline was pulled away from her out of his mind.

He’d gotten his second killed. He was sure of it. The General had no doubt that his father had slaughtered the woman on the spot after he’d been pulled from the room, just to get back at his son for killing his own. The tall man knew that if he ever managed to return to the Ice Kingdom’s capitol he would have to face the woman and tell her why her wife had perished.

In the very back of his mind, however, was those few seconds before the soldiers had attacked. Marshall’s soft lips upon his own had been a complete shock and yet they’d stopped his heart cold, only to warm it now in this freezing cell. He could only hope that the thought was warming the dragon as well, locked away in the Ice Palace. (He tried desperately not to imagine the boy still trapped in that hidden room, knowing that it would surely be the death of him.)

A sudden noise caught his attention and the man’s eyes lifted as the same girl from earlier unlocked his door, her eyes downcast. Her lips were tight as he stepped out, offering no resistance as she lead him through the separated dungeon and back into the palace.

This time, to Burton’s surprise, he was taken to the throne room. It was grand and beautiful, with marble walls and emerald tapestry. A line of guards stood on either side, but he didn’t bother to spare any of them a glance as he was lead up to the podium.

A wave of surprise filled the strawberry-blonde, however, as he laid his eyes upon the three extravagant chairs that stood before him. Beside his father sat his mother, strawberry-blonde hair done up beautifully and blue eyes full of so much distain that he felt sick to his stomach. What surprised the man the most, however… was the little girl, no more then 9, sitting on the man’s other side.

She had blonde hair, like the King, and big blue eyes. Her dress was white and child-like, a frown on her face and a gaze that had seen far too much bloodshed.

The General wasn’t allowed any more time to question her appearance, however, as a sword was suddenly thrust into his arms.

“From my understanding,” his father addressed coldly, seated tall in his chair, his eyes narrowed. “You don’t care for the lives of your men.” A noise caught Burton’s attention and he turned toward the entrance as the dozen men that had been brought with him where marched into the room. Marceline was with them, which made him sigh out a small breath of relief. It was gone in an instant, however, when the shackles were snapped off of his warriors and they were handed swords with confused looks on their faces. Barely able to contain his smirk, the King finished, “But maybe it’s a little different when you’re the one taking them.”

Turning to glare openly at the man, Burton held up the sword for a moment, before throwing it to the ground in front of him.

His mother gave him a distasteful face, but the form next to her chuckled. “This is going to go one of three ways,” He informed, sternly, his grin full-on now. “Either you kill your men, watch my guards slaughter them one by one… or you hand over the dragon.”

“Dragon?” He heard Jake whisper in confusion, before the rest of the group followed.

“I will _never_ give him to you,” the General informed, holding his head high, his lips tight.

The King’s grin turned into a sneer as he slammed a fist down on the arm rest of his throne. “That’s enough!” He bellowed. “Why are you going to such lengths to protect a creature that you’re not even using in battle!?”

“He’s not a creature!” The force of which the shout left Burton’s mouth was enough to make the blonde girl jump in surprise, her blue eyes wide with fear. “He’s a _child_! And I won’t let you make him into some sort of weapon!”

To his surprise, it was his mother who spoke next, motioning wildly to the girl on the other side of her husband. “ _That_ is a child!” She declared, a disgusted look on her features. “What you’ve got hidden away is a _monster_! And it deserves to be treated as nothing more than one!”

Her son wanted to scream. He wanted to shout, to toss his arms around, and to throw a full-on childish tantrum. He wanted to tell his mother that she was _wrong_ , like he had so many times when he was still living within these walls. But things like that were no longer acceptable and so, forcing himself to calm down, he turned toward the girl seated in the throne that had once been his.

“What’s your name?” The General asked, speaking as gently as he could.

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise, but her voice was calm, if not a little shy, as she answered, “…Fionna.”

“Don’t speak to her!” The Queen snapped, moving to stand.

“Hello, Fionna,” Burton continued, laying a hand across his chest, before he bowed respectfully. “My name is Burton. I’m your older brother.”

A round of shocked and horrified noises filled the room, echoing for several moments before all went still. In the child’s eyes, the man who had once been a Prince could see wheels turning, the initial shock setting in before her lips turned down in a frown. Had she heard about him? Or had he been kept a secret, hidden away in the back of his mother’s closet like some sort of skeleton?

Finally, after several moments, Fionna let out a small whisper of, “You’re the one… the one they never talk about.”

“Kill him!” The Queen demanded, pointing a long finger at her son, who instantly scooped down to grab for the sword at his feet. “Kill them all!”

The room broke into chaos, then, and as Burton reached for the weapon he felt a strong foot slam into the back of his knee. He let out a hiss of pain, collapsing to the ground and rolling onto his back as a burly guard stood over him, sword at the ready.

“Stop!” The blonde-haired Princess cried, flying from her chair and stumbling down the steps. The room stilled momentarily as she threw herself down over her brother, covering as much of his body as she could with her own. “Don’t hurt him, please!”

“Fionna!” Her elegant mother gasped, reaching toward the girl, though she made no effort to step down off the platform. Such things were below her, after all.

From his place on the ground, Burton watched as his sister turned her gaze toward their parents, blue eyes full of pain. “Please, father!” She declared, tears beginning to drip down her cheeks. “ _Please_! Just let them go. Let them leave! Don’t kill them!”

For several long, agonizing moments, the Earth King stared at his children. His eldest, lying on the floor, injured and tense. He’d grown, ten years taking him from a teenager to a man. His hair was in shambles, his skin covered in dirt… he was still, like a steady flowing river, fluid and strong. And then his youngest, dressed to perfection with clean hair and smooth skin. She was pleading for the life of her brother, for a bit of humility from the father that she loved so dearly.

With a slow breath, the King lifted a hand and waved it toward his guards, his wrist loose. “Let them go,” He stated, his words offering no room for argument. He ignored his wife as she gasped in horror.

Watching in surprise as the armor-clad men backed away from his warriors, Burton turned his gaze toward his sister, who moved from atop of him and reached out a hand to help him up.

“Send the Ice army on its way,” his father whispered, as if it were painful to do so. “Give them food and water. They aren’t to be harmed.”

Solemnly, the men and women that had been captured at the General’s side were lead from the room, sparing glances back at their leader a few times before disappearing behind the double doors.

“Burton,” The Earth King addressed, earning his son’s eyes once more as he stood, tall and steady like a stone wall. “This will never again be the outcome of our meeting. I will, for the rest of our days, hunt you and your dragon until it is in my hands. From now on, should you enter the Earth Kingdom without the intent to bring the creature to me, you will be killed on sight. Am I understood?”

Sucking in a strained breath through his nose, the once Prince gave a slow nod.

“Go,” his father whispered, painfully.

Without waiting for anything else to be said, Burton turned, bursting from the throne room and rushing toward the stables. He mounted a horse as quickly as possible and all by threw himself out the front gates of the capitol, praying he would return before his men did.

He had to get Marshall. They had to disappear. His father couldn’t find them again… no, they needed to hide somewhere deep in the Ice Kingdom, beyond where any eyes would appear. They had to leave their lives behind and move on…

Or else the worst would come.


	5. Into the sky

After pushing the horse to its limits, he managed to make it to the Ice Kingdom in a little over a day. The sun was setting as he approached the main gates, a sense of relief flooding him as he took in the first set of houses. It wasn’t in shambles as he’d feared, instead full of people busying themselves with their daily chores as if nothing had happened.

“General Burton!” Someone cried as he all but fell from his horse, his body stiff. He didn’t offer a reply, handing the reins to a passing child and making his way through the stone streets, toward the long ladder that lead up to the army’s wall.

After an exhausting climb – his hastily bandaged arm flaring up with pain – Burton was thankful that his camp was dead silent. He didn’t bother to question where the remainder of his warriors was, instead storming up the palace steps and through the front doors as quickly as a flame.

The tall man barely managed to make it into the hall before he was screaming Marshall Lee’s name, stumbling on his stiff legs. He must have caught the attention of Simone, who came rushing out of his room moments later.

“Thank Glacina!” The white-haired woman declared, struggling through the name of the Ice Goddess, her eyes full of fear. He brushed past her, storming up to the sapphire beside the hidden wall.

“Marshall!” The General cried again, removing a glove and brushing his palm over the gem’s blue surface. Immediately, the layers of ice began to melt and disappear, revealing the glass door, which was fogged over.

His heart in his throat, Burton shouldered it open, before he stilled in an instant.

Curled up in the marble bathtub, Marshall Lee was still, his pale skin clammy and his lips blue. He was letting out small, shallow breaths, his shaking fingers gripping his outer cloak like a lifeline. He looked fragile, so much so that Burton felt like screaming out in horror. In that moment, the strawberry-blonde felt his heart being torn from his chest.

The few seconds it took for him to cross the room felt like an eternity, his pulse racing and tears spilling down his cheeks. The General all but collapsed beside the bathtub in a frenzy as he reached in to gather up the cold form into his arms, cradling the boy who seemed so much like a child against him.

The Queen was shouting something as he struggled to get to his feet, his body attempting to give out beneath him. His arm howled in pain, but the dismayed man didn’t pay any attention to it. His legs felt as solid as water as he stumbled out of the bathroom and toward his bed, where he dropped the small teen none-too-gently.

“His inner warmth is going out!” Simone sobbed, not bothering to look away as the head of her army began to strip down his dark-haired companion until he was wearing nothing more than his skin. Tears were streaming from her colorless eyes as Burton struggled to peel his own clothing from his body, before shrugging up the bed’s thick pelts around himself at the boy, pressing the other’s front against himself and trying his best to be gentle with the folded pair of wings. “Burton… if it goes out he’ll _die_!”

“Why didn’t you let him out of the room!?” The tall man bellowed, rubbing the shaking boy’s back and feeling the panic flood through his system. Die…? Yes, he knew Marshall had that inner warmth thing that the woman was always going on about, but… _die_? In the books he’d read, it hadn’t really talked about such a thing, only stating that it was used to breathe fire.

“I _tried_!” She bawled, slipping to her knees, her extravagant dress buckling beneath her. “I tried and I tried… but it was made for _you_! So only _you_ could open it!”

Swallowing the sour taste in his throat – and cursing himself inwardly for making a protection room that was _too_ efficient – Burton buried his face into the pale boy’s hair and let his eyes slip shut. Despite his best efforts to fight it, his body finally gave way to exhaustion, slipping into a restless darkness that left him fearful and pained.

* * *

When he finally regained consciousness, light was spilling in from the bedroom window. It stung his eyes and he allowed himself to keep them shut, reassured by the feeling of Marshall’s body in his arms, breathing evenly and warm.

After a few moments, the violet-eyed man allowed himself to pull away from the comfort of the bed, convinced that the dark-haired boy would remain well in his absence. Peeking one quick eye open provided a view of a low-burning fire nearby, not close enough to be dangerous, but providing enough heat for the sleeping dragon.

Shrugging his dirt-stained clothes back on, the General then crossed the icy room and entered the bathroom. He pulled a bit of ice cold water from Simone’s running supply, situated inside of the wall, before taking a seat on the rim of the tub to clean the cut on his arm.

A few properly applied bandages later, Burton flipped open an untouched leather bag and began to push a few articles of clothing into it, running ideas through his head.

If they headed to the north, they could border the Fire Kingdom, where they would likely lose the eyes of many. Most refused to enter the area, too afraid of being scooped up by dragons (he resisted a bitter snort at the irony) or falling victim to the kingdom’s massive army. It seemed the best route, but he wasn’t sure how easily they could get there without having to go completely around the extensive mountain range.

“Burton?”

Stilling instantaneously, the tall man slowly turned his gaze toward the doorway, where Simone stood. She was wearing a frown, her fingers gripping her dress in tightly clenched fists.

“Your men are outside,” The Queen informed with a shaky breath. “…They want to speak to you.”

…How long had he slept? He should have beaten them there by quite some time. There was no way they could have caught up to him by the time the sun rose, yet as he followed her from room and walked alone down the palace steps, he saw his no longer captured army standing in the forgotten camp.

His stomach felt like a rock as the strawberry-blonde approached, his heart racing. From the looks on their worn faces, he could tell that they were angry. They felt betrayed, just as he had assumed they would, and most of them had looks of anger painted on their features.

It was Jake that spoke up, stepping forward, a controlled rage hidden beneath the thin surface of his walls. “You’re… the Earth Kingdom’s Prince?”

Behind him, Burton could see that Marceline was nowhere to be found. She was likely with her wife, though for some reason he felt as if her absence was a deep cut to his chest. Finn stood a few feet behind his blonde-haired companion, shocked by the news as he gaped openly.

“…I am,” The General whispered meekly. At this state, he didn’t have the strength to hold his head high. It was one thing to face his parents after ten years, but it was another to stand opposite his own troops and admit his wrong-doings. “I left ten years ago and came here.”

“…With a dragon,” The blonde dead-panned. It wasn’t a question.

Ignoring the glares of his warriors, the pained man slowly nodded, feeling his stomach twist. “With a dragon,” he confirmed.

“A dragon!?” Finn cried, excitement filling his features as he grinned widely. “How cool! Where is it!? I wanna see!”

“You mean to tell me,” Jake cut in, holding up a hand and ceasing the boy’s words immediately. “That you’ve had a dragon for the past _ten_ years and you never once thought to use it during the _fifty nine_ times the Earth Kingdom has attacked?!”

Following his intense words was a round of silence, the people around him staring at Burton with cold, expectant faces. He knew it would eventually come to this… people didn’t understand his reasoning. They didn’t see Marshall as a person, only as a weapon to be used in war.

“He’s just a child,” Burton tried to reason, only to sigh at their disbelieving stares. “He’s not someone you can just… just throw out there to _fight_. He needs protecting!”

The blonde man scoffed, rolling his eyes and glancing back at the group. For a few moments he stayed that way, before a strained, “A _dragon_ needs protecting…” left his lips. As he turned back toward their leader, his lip was curled back in a disgusted sneer. “And protecting it was worth all of those lives? All of those dead people?”

“Jake-” The violet-eyed man tried, but he fell short. What could he say to that, really? To him, protecting Marshall _was_ worth all of those lives lost. But he knew none of the others would see it that way. To them, he was nothing more than a creature, not much different from a common pet.

One hand lifted as his opposite tensed, dark eyes narrowed. “All of those lives that wouldn’t have been lost if you hadn’t come here in the first place.” From behind him, Finn let out confused breath. His blue eyes gazed at the man he called his leader, as if begging for it not to be true. “If you hadn’t set foot here, there would be no war. The Earth army followed _you_. _You_ brought all of this upon us, all because they wanted your _dragon_.”

“Because of me…?”

A jolt of horror ran through Burton’s mind, causing a delayed reaction. It took him a few seconds to twist, feeling weighed down by the very idea that the boy he cared so much for had heard Jake’s every word. Upon his full turn, however, he found the nightmare to be a reality as Marshall Lee stood all but ten feet away, his features clouded with pain and confusion.

Bright, sky blue eyes gazed at the man he trusted with so much fear that it broke the General’s heart in two. Slowly, the teenager reached up, grasping at his cloak just above his chest, where Simone declared his ‘inner warmth’ to be. “Is it true…?” He whispered, his voice strained and begging, pleading for honesty.

“Marshall…” The older whispered, the rest of the world numbing around him. In that moment he could only see the dark-haired boy, broken and fearful as he stood, shivering in the cold. It was a sight he had never wanted to see… something he’d always wanted to protect him from.

One of the very reasons he’d wanted to keep him safe.

“Wait…” Jake wheezed, bringing the duo back into reality. “You mean that… that _Mar_ is the…?”

The teenager took a step back, his legs shaky. His silence spoke volumes to Burton, who could tell in that moment the unspoken words being said between them. From his lack of a response, Marshall knew the truth… that he’d hidden in the Ice Kingdom to protect him, that the army had been going to war to keep him safe.

That men had died because of him, without even knowing why.

Soft, pale features twisted into a look of horror and the boy let his face drop into his hands, his shoulders shaking. A small, defeated sob left him, his legs giving out and causing him to stumble a few steps backwards.

“Marshall-” The General tried again, only to jump in alarm when the boy suddenly snapped up, glaring at him.

“Don’t!” The other called, fists clenched. Immediately, the group could sense a fit of rage surging through him, the signs all ones they could recognize. “Just… just _don’t_!” His breathing quickened, his legs shaking and his eyes squeezing shut. For several moments he stood like that, face clenched up as if trying to contain an inner fury, before he finally decided that there was no use in holding it back any longer.

A deafening scream left the boy, the force from it enough to make the army stumble back. It shook the city, the nearby trees losing the snow from atop their branches and animals fleeing in fear. As Marshall shouted, he threw his arms to his sides and the men around him watched in both fear and awe as a pair of wings, nearly as large as his body, sprang from his back.

The ripped clothing that covered him fell from his form as it turned, pale skin giving way to dark scales and body twisted upwards, contorting into a massive form. It barely fit on the ledge, its frame nearly thirty feet wide and at least as large as two small houses. A long scar ran down the left side of its body, from the underside of its arm to the length of its leg.

As the army stumbled away in fear, Marshall turned, leaping from the top of the wall and into the city, his large wings spreading out and lifting his weight into the air almost effortlessly.

All was silent as the group watched him disappear into the sky, his form fading away in the heavy fog that always surrounded the capitol. The tension was so thick that it could be cut with a blade, only broken moments later as Burton fell to his knees and screamed out the boy’s name.

“Marshall!” The man shrieked, his body feeling weak and weighing him down. He stumbled forward, falling onto his hands as he reached toward the sky. “ _Marshall_!” His fingers grasped, as if he could wipe the fog away and pluck the majestic creature from the air, pulling it into his arms and holding it close.

“Burton!” Marceline cried, suddenly at his side. When had she appeared? Hadn’t she been with Bonnibel? Soft hands pulled him back up to his knees and forced him back against a warm, slim chest, as he fought to grab at the empty fog. “Burton! Let him go. Let him go!”

“Marshall!” The general sobbed, struggling for a few moments more before he finally gave in and collapsed in his second’s arms, suddenly aware of the tears that were streaming down his cheeks.

“He’ll come back,” She assured, though it fell on deaf ears. Her fingers began to gently run through his hair as she cradled him, rocking his weeping form back and forth. “He just needs to blow off some anger, alright…? He’ll come back, Burton. I promise.”

A small glance back toward the army found their faces all a mirror of what she felt in her heart. Somehow, the man they had all looked up to as a strong, powerful leader… was now left a broken mess on the icy ground…

All for the love of a boy who harbored a dangerous secret.

* * *

“He’ll come back”, Marceline had said. And she kept saying that, day after day, for the next few weeks. “I promise.”

“You can’t go after him,” She eventually began saying, sounding as stern as a mother might to a child. “You could take weeks, Burton. And if he comes back when you’re gone, then he’ll just leave again.”

“You can’t go to the Earth Kingdom,” were her next words when news traveled about Marshall’s capture by his father – intentional or not, Burton was unaware, though he had the sinking suspicion that the boy had flown there the very first day – a few months later. “They’ll kill you on sight, remember? If you ever want to see him again, we need a plan.”

“We need a plan…”

But a plan never came. It left, disappearing with every moment of time that passed without an attack from the Earth Kingdom. Soldiers departed the capitol, returning to their homes and to their families. Finn returned home, Jake joining him soon after…

And eventually, even Marceline moved on, taking Bonnibel and leaving for a city to the east, where the snow wasn’t as bad.

There were no plans, nor would there ever be one. For the rest of his life it would only be him, standing atop the icy wall of the Ice Kingdom capitol, staring at the sky where Marshall Lee had flown out of his life, disappearing into the fog.

Time passed by slowly, the days and weeks merging together. Somehow, he found himself in a cabin hidden away from eyes, just as he’d wanted to be with the teenager. His days felt endless and meaningless, full simply surviving. There was nothing more to life now, his very purpose having disappeared into the sky all those days ago.

Burton felt empty and alone, numbed by the loss of the one thing he had wanted to hold onto more than anything else.

“He’ll come back,” Marceline had said. “I promise.”

Marceline was a liar.


End file.
